Max-stravaganza

Although it's undeniably great to be back home, I was somewhat apprehensive about my first week of vacation. The spectre of Jury Duty was haunting my life. I was originally called back in October but got it postponed until the week before Christmas. Apparently "full time student" doesn't qualify as a decent excuse anymore. What's next, the army will start drafting paraplegics? That's not to say that the disabled can't serve in the military. No, I'm not going to discriminate against someone just because they're missing their legs and part of their right deltoid after a freak cornballer-related accident. Even though we may be able bodied, the folk in wheelchairs may be more able minded...as is the case with Professor Charles Xavier, who with one thought can make you strip off all your clothes, smother yourself in bacon fat and hide in your dirty clothes hamper. But I digress. The good people at the Los Angeles County Superior Court (hencefort

Last minute gift ideas for that special lady... Not only does Justin Timberlake continue to shame all Chris Kirkpatrick fans by proving that he was the brains behind *NSYNC, but he successfully makes SNL funny. I'm thinking that Time has a new candidate for Man of the Year. Oh, and if there are any attractive and single women in the LA area who think this is a good Christmas/Channukah/Kwanzaa/Festivus present, please leave me a message with your name and favorite color of ribbon and we'll talk.

Know what the best part of being home is? No, it's not the food. Actually, for my first night back we just ordered Chinese and watched Young Frankenstein. God have I missed City Wok's sesame beef and string beans. A little taste of heaven is what that is...that's assuming that the angel chefs still cook with MSG. But that may be just #5 in my list of best things about maX-mas break. (Sidebar: that's right, MaX-mas. Some red staters may call that sacreligious, but they're just jealous that I have the letter X in my first name. If their names were more compliant with this awesome holiday moniker, they'd redact their complaints.) (Sidebar sub 2: Some may be wondering why, in fact, I am not writing this blog entry in the form of a countdown. Well, in recent weeks, Men's Health magazine has warned me against being "too John Cusack." In this holiday season, a lot of religious asian types have told me to ask WWJCD. I took this to mean: make as

Believe it or not, I'm actually working on some new entries that will be halfway decent. I even annoy myself when I say "Oh! that'll be on my blog tomorrow!" and I lazily ignore said topic and play Halo for extended periods of time. So in the meanwhile, allow me to be just like every other teenager (for only 3 months more, mind you) and just type out some song lyrics that are somewhat pertinent to my situation. If you're down and confused And you don't remember who you're talking to Concentration can slip away Because your baby's so far away And there's a rose in a fisted glove And the eagle flies with the dove And if you can't be with the one you love Love the one you're with Yup. I'm trying to get all of my angst out of my system before Christmas. Only 14 more shopping days left!

A lot of idiot freedom haters (read: the people in charge of Congress) have been complaining about the national anthem. No one really knows the lyrics and it's an angry ode to war. Well, always the one for compromise, I've found a solution. It's a little diddy that I like to call, This is Our Country. The song can inspire, embiggen, and sell Chevys. The commerical shows images of Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, so I suppose this retroactively makes John Cougar Mellencamp an integral part of the civil rights movement. Allow me to utilize my knowledge of the transitive propety for a moment. Baseball is America's pasttime. The only thing that interrupted the World Series were the incessant Chevrolet ads with John Mellencamp. So "This is Our Country" is more important than Baseball. It's also the most American song on the radio right now (apart from anything sung by Toby Keith) and in these dreadful, Rumsfeld-less times, we need as much patriotism as